Claudia
by mellowenglishgal
Summary: A Ginny-Draco pregnancy fic! Torn apart by L. Malfoy, the two find each other again... It had to be written for the millionth time. Please review! UP FOR ADOPTION!
1. Claudia

**Disclaimer**: Obviously I do not Draco, or he would be chained to my bed… Er… Yeah, so I only own anything you don't recognise.

**Author's Note**: I just _had_ to do a Ginny-Draco FanFic, or what kind of FanFic authoress would I be?

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Draco strolled down Diagon Alley with his top two buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up just below the elbows—inadvertently displaying the clear, unblemished forearms he was so proud of, his hands in his trouser pockets. He tossed the gleaming blonde locks that fell to his shoulders out of his eyes and smiled softly. One of the hottest days of late-June had Florean Fortesque's open with the tables under bright umbrellas, not a cloud in the sky and everyone was sweltering hot and beaming. The entire street was flocked with midday shoppers and businessmen on their lunch break. He grinned and walked down Diagon Alley, turning in a circle. He couldn't believe he had wanted to give all this up for life in a farmhouse in the Dordogne, all for the panoramic view of the stars and the cheese and wine every night, and his pretty Danish neighbour who cooked him dinner every Thursday night. He was distracted, after looking in the window of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and smiling at the miniature display of their fantastic fireworks, by the sound of crying. Not an adult crying, a young child. He frowned and glanced around at knee-height, discerning the glimmer of beautiful voluptuous golden ringlets in a darkened alleyway on his left between Madame Malkins and Aphrodisia's Cosmetiques.

Frowning, Draco wondered why the little girl was unaccompanied. Even now, so long since the Battle of Hogwarts, no child as young as she should be wandering around alone. He glanced up and sort of smiled at the people milling around, going from Point A to B without another thought, not appreciating the beautiful day Draco had found himself basking in. He crossed the commuting shoppers' paths and went to the little girl. She was exceptionally pretty, even as a young child. Still very young, her cheeks were full and glowing, her eyelashes long and luxurious and she had the most intense wide blue eyes, like saucers, the golden ringlets hanging glossy to her shoulders. She was clothed practically in a pretty pink dress of comfortable soft cotton-blend printed with little flowers, and a white apron tied around her waist with frilled cap-sleeves, little socks and soft kid-skin black button-up ankle-boots. Her eyes were wide as she looked from face to face as the crowd swelled in front of her, blocking off any escape from the alley.

"Hello," Draco said pleasantly, squatting down in front of her. "Are you lost?" The little girl nodded. "Maybe I can help you." She shook her head, the defined glossy ringlets bouncing merrily. _Probably not allowed to talk to strangers_, Draco thought. He told Luciana the same thing; Luciana was his eighteen-years-younger sister, a love-child, the product of his parents' renewed love after the Battle, and the youngest of three Malfoy children. "You're not allowed to talk to strangers, are you?" She shook her head, eyes on the floor. "Perhaps you could talk to a friend?" he said hopefully, and her eyes glowed.

"Yes, I can," she beamed.

"Can I be your friend?" Draco asked, hands clasped as he cocked his head to one side, his fair hair falling into his eyes—the same exact hue as the girls' gorgeous curls. The girl grinned, her eyes and the dimple in her cheek winking at him cheekily. "What is your name?"

"Claudia Jenifer," she said boldly, puffing out her pudgy baby-stomach importantly. "Mummy calls me Poppet."

"I bet she does," Draco smiled. She was an absolute darling. The eyes captivated him, and he felt he had seen them before in a dream, or a dream of a dream. "And where is your Mummy?"

"She went to the office," Claudia said importantly, smiling proudly.

"And why are you out here by yourself?" Draco frowned. Surely her mother wouldn't have left her home alone, wouldn't have let her wander around Diagon Alley until she returned from her own mother's house?

"It's too hot," Claudia pouted, lowering her eyelashes coquettishly as she grasped her fingers and leaned backwards, her arms taut in a very bashful pose. She was just like doll which Draco kept Luciana's nursery in constant supply of. "Dean said he would buy me an ice-cream, but he said he had to do some work." Draco frowned. Surely Dean should have been taking care of Claudia rather than reading paperwork if he had been left in charge of the child.

"Well, how about I buy you a treat," Draco offered, "and I will take you home." Claudia's eyes lit up beautifully and she took his hand. Draco stood up and walked slowly so Claudia could trot along at a pace comfortable to her, and they entered the cool ice-cream parlour.

"Hullo, Claudie!" the man behind the counter beamed, his deep voice booming. Claudie grinned and dashed to the counter. "What'll you have today, sweets?" Draco lifted her up in his arms so that she could press her face and hands to the glass and examine the many silver tubs of beautifully-presented ice-creams.

"May I have one?" she asked, her eyes widening at Draco imploringly. Draco smiled indulgently.

"Of course," he said. How could he refuse? He'd brought us this far, and if life with two very much younger sisters had taught him anything, it was never to lead a horse to water and take it away again. He glanced at the man behind the counter, in the gleaming white apron ready with a wet ice-cream scoop. "What flavour would you like? Something to cool you down?"

"Mm," Claudia pressed her lips together thoughtfully. "What are you going to have?"

"_I_—I will have a scoop of lemon sorbet," Draco declared, smiling. The man busied himself with the scoop and doled out a penny-lick glass of pale yellow sorbet.

"What does it taste like?" Claudia inquired sceptically, frowning curiously at the sorbet.

"You can try some," the man smiled, taking a tiny little spoon and filling it with sorbet from the display. Claudia leaned forward, lips parted, and the man chuckled as he fed her like the child she was.

"I think I know which one you might like, missy," the man smiled, eyes glowing, and he scooped a penny-lick glass of raspberry sorbet, a deep and sultry fuchsia colour. "There you go. Raspberries. I know you like raspberries." Claudia giggled and pressed her palms to her lips and blew—yes, a loud raspberry, which made several of the regular customers laugh softly and wave in familiarity, several of them calling greetings.

"Why don't _you_," Draco said, letting Claudia to the floor and handing her the two penny-lick glasses and spoons, "go and find us a nice table in the sunshine while I pay for these." Not letting her out of his sight, Draco addressed the man quietly as he handed him some gold, hearing the tinkle of the golden cash-register and cool coins in his palm.

"I found her alone by Madam Malkins," he said quietly, narrowing her eyes as Claudia carefully reached up and put the penny-lick glasses on a table in the window. "Where is her family?"

"Oh, she's always running around," the man sighed, shaking his head reprovingly though looking amused. "She never gets far though—too many family members. When she's finished eating that, she lives with her mother behind Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes." _Who's Dean_? Draco wondered, frowning and thanking the man softly before beaming and taking his place opposite Claudia as she clambered onto one of the metal chairs. She was so small her legs stuck out over the edge of the chair but did not bend, and sighing subtly in frustration, she eventually had to stand up to use the spoon properly.

"Claudia, why did you leave the house on your own?" Draco asked gently. "Didn't Dean tell you to stay in the house?"

"I can't remember," Claudia said, her eyes widening as she managed the spoon and sighed contentedly, her eyes glowing, as she tasted the raspberry sorbet.

"You know, pretty little girls like you shouldn't walk around on their own," Draco said with soft sternness. How many times had he had to tell Lucilla the same thing when she was growing up, and now Luciana? Though _they _had always been confined to Malfoy Manor unless their mother went out for a day-trip. Still, a little girl could get lost in Malfoy Mansion quite easily. Even this little boy could, and had, many times. "They might get gobbled up by dragons or trolls."

"Uncle Charlie says I'm not big enough for a dragon to eat," Claudia said matter-of-factly as she dug her spoon into the sorbet. "He has dragons in Rom—_something_." _An uncle who's a dragon-keeper_, Draco thought interestedly, eyebrows rising curiously. He'd never been one for animals. He had baited a hippogriff, been turned into a ferret, had a fear of bats and his father's dogs liked to hump his leg, much to his eternal chagrin.

"What about your mummy? Does she think you're too small to lose?" Draco asked softly, smiling subtly as Claudia glanced up at him, her lips pulled to one side thoughtfully, the dimple winking again. She had the loveliest pearls of baby-teeth he had ever seen.

"Mummy always holds my hand," Claudia said softly, turning her attention to her treat again. Draco hadn't touched his. He was too entranced by Claudia. Those blue eyes were oddly familiar, and he was growing even more uncomfortable with the thought of the uncle who kept dragons. He knew—had known—a woman whose elder brother, or one of, he should say, was a dragon-keeper on Romania.

"What's your name?" Claudia asked.

"Draco," he said, smiling. "It means 'dragon'."

"_Really_?" Claudia's eyes had blown up to enormous proportions. They really were saucers. Draco nodded.

"My auntie's name means 'flower'," Claudia said informatively. "Uncle Bill says I'm prettier than Auntie Fleur." She gave him a conspiratorial giggle as she looked around the shop, as if this was some incredibly delicious secret they were both parlay to. Draco's heart was being crushed and at the same time painfully resisting the iron vice: an uncle who had married a woman named 'Fleur', as in Delacour, and an uncle who was a dragon-keeper in Romania.

"How old are you, Claudia?" Draco asked quietly.

"I'll be five in August," Claudia beamed, her stomach puffed out importantly. Five years and seven months ago… November, he guesstimated. She would have been conceived sometime in November if she had been in the womb nine months exactly.

"Claudia, what's your mummy's name?" Draco asked, even more gently, barely moving his lips as he watched the little girl.

"Twiggy," Claudia replied with her blue eyes wide. Draco stared at her, his heart filled with emotions he couldn't even name but were tearing him up from his very fibres, and laughed. His nickname had been 'Hon', once upon a time, because Ginny said he could have been a formidable enemy, but he was 'a domestic sweetie'. "That's what Uncle Bill calls her. Mummy loves Uncle Bill the most. And Uncle Charlie."

"And your daddy? What's his name?" he tried to keep his tone light and friendly, but he was desperate; he had to know.

"Mummy says Daddy went away," Claudia said, wrinkling her nose as her fair eyebrows lowered sadly.

"Why?" Draco breathed. Claudia glanced at him, pouted her raspberry-sorbet pink lips and shrugged her shoulders indefinitely. "Did he go with the angels?" Claudia shook her head.

"Just…away," she said softly. Draco glanced at her glass. She had finished her sorbet and he had been picking at his now just so he had something to distract him from the fact that sitting in front of him might very well be Ginny Weasley's daughter. _His_ daughter.

"Come on, let's get you home," he smiled. He lifted Claudia off the chair and she strutted beside him, her golden tresses bouncing, but when it was clear the midday traffic of shoppers had not ceased, she tugged on the leg of his trousers and begged with her eyes. Draco hoisted her into the crook of his elbow effortlessly; she was so small, a tiny lump of warmth and pudgy little rosy cheeks. He was used to carrying little girls; Luciana was constantly crawling all over him when he came home, and Lucilla had been the same way when she was younger. He walked them back up towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, getting a lot of pretty looks from the women who saw him with the golden-haired angel in his arms. They must look like the perfect father and child.

"Dean!" Claudia beamed, her arms outstretched, as an extremely tall black young-man with the most stricken expression Draco had ever seen darted out of the toy-shop, glancing anxiously up and down the Alley.

"Claudie!" he gasped, and his expression flashed with anger as well as the relief of finding the child. "Where've you been? I've been all over Diagon Alley looking for you. I told you, you weren't allowed to leave the garden without me."

"Draco found me and took me for an ice-cream," Claudia beamed, squirming in his arms to smile beautifully at Draco. "Because I was lost." Draco recognised Dean. How could he not? Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor in the same year at Hogwarts. One of Ginny's ex-boyfriends. Now, apparently, a baby-sitter.

"Oh, did he now?" Dean asked, frowning at Draco; there couldn't be any doubt in Draco's mind that flicker of recognition in Dean's dark eyes had caused him to glance warily at Claudia before scooping her out of Draco's arms.

"Thanks," he said courteously. "Her mother would have my hide if she'd run off to Knocturn Alley. You aren't going to leave the house for a week, d'you hear?" Claudia put her arms around Dean's neck and pouted softly.

"I only wanted an ice-cream," she said, and her downcast eyes filled with tears.

"Well, you could have gotten hurt," Dean said, and Draco frowned when Dean glanced at him again. "Come on, let's get you home. Thanks again."

"Bye Draco," Claudia beamed, watching him with those stunning eyes as Dean carried her away from him. Draco gave her a small wave and a sweet smile and closed his eyes with a deep gasp as she disappeared from view.

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**A.N.:** Please review!


	2. Ambush

**Disclaimer**: Okay, I own nothing except that which you do not recognise, so please enjoy J.K.'s masterpiece warped by me.

**Author's Note**: To _Jessica_ and _Dracoginnylover24_ thank you for reviewing! I did a happy dance! So this next chapter is a flashback, one of a sequence of three flashback-chapters. Enjoy!

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The cobbled street was dark, a few windows splashing evanescent golden light on the stones and the structure of buildings opposite. Snowflakes were gliding down gracefully from the heavens and Draco smiled softly as he put his gloved hand out and let some of the tiny white particles of ice catch on the soft black leather. Snowflakes clung to his eyelashes and cheeks as he looked up and he shook them out of his hair. He loved winter. Everything was so quiet and restful.

"_Crucio_!" Pain, pain beyond pain. He fell to the cobbled ground, writhing and yelling—only no sound came out, because a second voice said "Silencio" and the thousand knives stabbing him all over his body did so without a murmur from him. He wasn't aware of anything except pain. Whoever it was lifted the curse for a few brief seconds, and then applied it again with renewed strength. He saw flashes of light in front of his clenched eyelids and the curse lifted again, several people were yelling, more flashes of light ricocheted off the buildings and then, silence, and a few soft _pops_.

"Fucking hell," Draco cringed, unfolding his sore body. He tensed as someone rested their hands on his shoulders and helped him sit up.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked, and it was smooth and quite low, very sensual. Draco rubbed his face tiredly, his joints stiff and sore.

"Peachy," he grumbled. "Who were they?"

"Oh, just Death Eater wannabes," the woman sighed. "The Ministry's been having a spot of bother with them for a while now. Think it's funny to dress up in black robes and masks and stalk lone travellers." Draco didn't think it all amusing, and he had been… Well, he wasn't anymore, and that was what was important. "Come on, up you get." Groaning, Draco was helped off the floor by the young-woman. In the light of the windows above Madam Malkin's he saw the characteristic gleam of deep saffron-red hair; Weasley hair. It was Ginny Weasley, and the few short years Draco hadn't seen her had matured her figure. Tiny waist, curvy hips and a full bust, she was very leggy and quite tall, but she held herself with a self-consciousness of her height that made her seem shorter. And she was wearing Muggle attire; cherry-red Doc Marten boots, thick socks, black tights, a skirt in vertical sections of different patterns, a thick burgundy-red turtleneck under a black V-neck cardigan, a scarf around her throat and a gold locket glinting on her voluptuous chest.

"Thanks," Draco said, staring deep into Ginny's entrancing blue eyes. He had seen her many times over the last few weeks, at quidditch games his father held box-seats for, around the Ministry where she visited her brother, elder sister Isolde and Harry Potter at Auror Headquarters, and in Diagon Alley. Every time he felt the same pleasant feeling when her eyes flitted over him and her lips tweaked slightly in a sort of uncertain smile, and when he had not seen her for days he felt quite empty. Two people were hurrying forward in magnificent robes, their silver hair glimmering in the moonlight.

"Draco, my darling," the slim, feminine figure gushed, and he instantly recognised his mother's anxious voice. Trust him to cause her worry _now_, two years after everything with Voldemort had been cleared away. They had come to Diagon Alley together to go shopping for Draco's youngest sister, two-year-old Lucilla.

"I'm perfectly fine, Mother," Draco said soothingly, even as Narcissa threw her arms around him and scrutinised his face anxiously. He smiled and kissed her temple.

"We saw those two Disapparate," his father said, glowering dangerously.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Narcissa asked, her hands still cupping Draco's face.

"I'm _fine_, Mother," Draco tried to laugh. "Miss Weasley here startled them and they Disapparated." He turned his pale grey eyes onto Ginny Weasley and gave her a tiny smile of gratitude.

"Miss…_Weasley_?" Narcissa said blankly, and jumped slightly when she looked over Draco's shoulder. She left Draco and fell on Ginny with kisses on her cheeks. "Thank you."

"It was no trouble," Ginny shrugged. _Probably not, compared to what she's been through_, Draco thought.

"Perhaps you would care to join us for dinner this evening?" Lucius suggested silkily, and Ginny's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. "It is the least we can do for helping our boy." Draco was twenty years old. He was hardly a little boy anymore. But he was still _their_ little boy.

"Okay," Ginny shrugged, smiling bemusedly at Draco. "Count me in."

"Wonderful," Draco smiled indulgently. "I'll see you two at dinner, Mother, Father." Narcissa kissed his cheek and the two strode off, his mother with a grateful smile at Ginny.

"This should be interesting," Lucius smirked.

"Uh—Ginny? Ginny, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" Draco asked, turning to Ginny.

"Not really," Ginny laughed softly, her shapely lips revealing beautiful white teeth.

"Well, you're about to enter the snake-pit," Draco sighed, and he slid his eyes over her again, taking in her outfit. "What are you planning to wear?" Ginny lifted her arms and shrugged. "I thought so," Draco sighed, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "Come with me."

* * *

Draco was receiving his guests in the brilliant marble foyer. The Maplewood staircase rose and split with an ornate little clock built into the engraved panelled wall and the staircases rose either side to the gallery and several corridors. The ceiling, a great dome of glass, showed them all a wonderful panorama of the constellations, and the dress-robes and ornaments his parents' guests wore challenged their brightness. He checked his little pocket-watch and shook hands and kissed cheeks, waiting for Ginny to reappear. He had set her up in one of the guest bedrooms; he had taken her to Peony Crescent, the high-end Wizarding couture boutiques, and she was upstairs getting ready. She had been obstinate in not showing him which gown she had purchased by his request and payment and he desperately wanted to see her all dressed up. The Yule Ball six years ago hardly counted; she had still been a little girl then.

He glanced up again and his stomach clenched in a good kind of painful way and he had to take an inconspicuous deep breath to suppress the feeling in his trousers at the sight of her. The gown was a deep, sultry shade of purple, and of the finest shimmering silk that caught the light. Tiny straps kept the soft V-neckline afloat over her otherwise bare breasts, tiny eyelets cut into the neckline, and a complex twist of the fabric over her hips created crosses and a knot, from which the skirt fell in billowing folds around her feet with a slight train. She had her hair done up prettily, the deep red complimenting the colour of her dress, in a soft bun at the base of her neck pinned with a delicate thin diamond clasp, a string of diamonds interspersed in a coil through the bun. Her arms and throat were bare but for a diamond bracelet clasped on her right wrist, and the slit that went from toe to six inches below the decorative knot was more than enough to attract attention as a flash of milky-white thigh made him moan softly as she descended the stairs with more grace than he would have thought capable from a Weasley. She attracted a lot of attention, but it was Draco who greeted her at the foot of the grand staircase and offered his hand. She placed hers in it and he delicately kissed it, eyes never leaving her face.

"You're late," she reprimanded smilingly. "I thought you were going to meet me at the door." Draco smiled.

"You're stunning," Draco breathed. Ginny smiled and giggled bashfully.

"You're forgiven," she smiled. He offered his arm, and Ginny carefully threaded hers through his elbow. She was nervous, he could tell, but she never faltered as she was introduced to all the high society of the pureblooded world. Everyone knew the Weasleys, of course; their name was golden, and almost everyone knew Ginny Weasley, the star Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies, almost as famous as her elder-sister, who had married Harry Potter.

"Don't be nervous," Draco whispered, leaning into her exclusively. "When you're not fidgeting you look _very_ beautiful… And very tall." Ginny giggled softly and blushed.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner, Draco?" Narcissa appeared, resplendent in lemon-yellow satin. He smiled indulgently. He loved it when his mother dressed up for parties; as a young boy, she had been the princess in the fairy-tales she would read him.

"Certainly," he smiled, and she took his other arm.

"She's splendid," Narcissa whispered in one ear, and Ginny glanced around nervously as they entered their grandest dining room.

"Just remember, they love money," Draco said softly to her, "so pretend like you own a goldmine and you're in the club." Her hold on his arm tightened slightly as he stopped to introduce her to people, obviously shy. The young girl he had known at Hogwarts had been anything but shy, but he supposed people changed. He had changed.

"And what do you do, Miss Weasley?" Lucius asked, sipping champagne from a shallow-bowled glass.

"Well, after I left school I was signed to the Holyhead Harpies starting-team," Ginny said, smiling at the waiter who poured champagne into her glass. "And when we're not training or playing I help my brother George with his shop, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Oh, my grandson absolutely _loves_ that shop!" one of the female guests gasped. "My daughter has had to threaten banning him from Diagon Alley to keep him from buying up the entire shop."

"How many brothers do you have, Miss Weasley?" another guest asked, and Ginny laughed.

"Well, technically six, but my brother Fred was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts," she explained. "By eldest brother works for Gringotts, Charlie works as a dragon-keeper in Romania, Percy is in the Ministry, George has Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and Ron is going through Auror training."

"How on earth did you survive six brothers?" a female guest laughed prettily. "My brother and I were at each other's throats every hour of the day."

"Oh, life at home was never quiet," Ginny smiled, sipping her champagne delicately. "I do have an elder-sister, though, and we're close, but I am the youngest, and with six brothers I quickly learned how to hold my own."

"I bet you did," a gentleman laughed heartily. "And now you spend all your time with six other women. How does it compare?"

"Oh, I think I can handle the boys much easier," Ginny laughed. "I still have to learn the politics of women." Narcissa was one of the ladies to laugh prettily and smiled at Ginny warmly.

"And what do you plan to do after quidditch—assuming you won't play forever," Lucius prompted, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Oh, I won't play forever," Ginny said, waving a hand airily. "A few more years, perhaps, and I might consider a different career. Perhaps journalism. I always detested the newspaper articles I had to read when I was at Hogwarts."

"Rita Skeeter," Draco nodded, his nose wrinkled distastefully. "She was absolutely horrendous." There was a murmur of agreement and the waiters started arriving with the caviar, and attention turned away from Ginny as their guests turned to their neighbours.

"Are all these for me?" Ginny whispered, glancing at the cutlery.

"Just watch me and use the same ones," Draco whispered in response, clearing his throat and taking the folded linen napkin from his stack of plates, and smiled softly as Ginny followed suit and politely declined caviar. He couldn't stop looking at her, dangerous, because he was sitting beside her and everyone who wanted to saw. They passed through the meal with mindless chatter and delicate laughter, going through bottles of wine and seven courses.

* * *

"Next it will be brandy and cigars in the smoking-room," Draco whispered to Ginny, sat in a comfortable chaise in the solar, in relative quiet, observing the ballroom through the double French doors.

"Well, join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" Lucius asked, standing up as if on cue. Several of the men around them made noises of approval and migrated away. Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. These society dinners were so predictable. The same narrow people, the same mindless chatter, the same conversations going on a loop throughout the evening until the waltz drowned out the white-noise. The solar was filled with pretty little seats and occasional tables laden with silver cake-stands, on which were all different sweets.

Draco's eldest sister, Lucilla, who was twelve and hated not being able to go to the parties, appeared at his elbow behind the loveseat and tugged on his sleeve mutely, begging him with wide eyes.

"Will you excuse me a minute?" Draco asked softly, and Ginny nodded, her eyes curious on Lucilla. He led Lucilla back out of the solar, giving her a tour of the ballroom so she could see the beautiful women dancing gracefully to an elegant waltz, and slipped her a brandy-snap, an éclair and a little glass of their mother's special chocolate-mousse before taking her hand and leading her back to the nursery. Their governess had retired for the evening into her private room and baby Luciana slept soundly on her back, a little fist clenched by her cherubic face. Draco helped Lucilla out of her little gown (she had dressed in lemon-yellow in an effort to look more like their mother and the resemblance was startling) and tucked her into bed.

"Okay, what will it be tonight?" Draco asked, smiling softly. Though by no means a child, Lucilla was still a very young twelve-year-old. Their parents had not permitted her to go to Hogwarts because Narcissa would pine for her and make herself ill, and because she had no friends her own age and rarely saw anyone but her family, Lucilla's development as a person was somewhat stinted, and seemed younger than she actually was. She was small and fair-haired just like their mother, her tresses falling to her waistline, with Draco's pale grey eyes and a sweet mocking mouth. She was almost gauchely devoted to Draco, more even than their parents, and in her eyes he was the world.

"Who was that girl?" she asked interestedly, turning her eyes onto him with a frankness of young children that could rarely be denied. "The one with the pretty face you were sitting with."

"Her name is Ginny," Draco said softly, an arm around Lucilla's shoulders.

"She's very pretty," Lucilla remarked, her fair eyebrows drawn together thoughtfully. "Are you in love with her?" Lucilla's world revolved around him, fairy-tales and porcelain dolls, her only true friends. Draco filled the nursery with everything she could ever want and spent most of his free time with her, making dens out of the mattresses of the children's suite and holding tea-parties, which only Mother was ever invited to.

"What makes you ask that?" Draco asked softly.

"You look at her like she's a chocolate-mousse," Lucilla remarked, gazing longingly at the treat on her bedside cabinet. "You look at her like Daddy looks at Mummy." Lucilla had always been excrutiatingly observant, and her honesty sometimes made Draco cringe.

"Well, she is very pretty," Draco said noncommittally. "Would you ever want a boy to look at you that way?"

"Of course!" Lucilla gushed, resting her head on his shoulder as if suffering a fainting spell from a broken heart. Lucilla's favourite activities involved daydreaming about the day when she would get married and have a family of her own. She had 'adopted' Luciana as her own daughter. "But are you going out with Ginny? You kept looking at her boobs." Draco flushed. Again with the frank honesty thing! "I don't think I'd like a boy to look at my boobs. When I get them." Lucilla couldn't wait to grow up and waltz around in elegant gowns and white gloves.

"What am I going to do when you grow up, hm? Who am I going to cuddle?" Draco asked quietly, pouting at Lucilla.

"Ginny," Lucilla smirked, and Draco tickled her mercilessly until her squeals and giggles threatened to stir Luciana. He tucked Lucilla into bed again and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight. I love you a million red liquorice wands," Draco whispered.

"I love you a million red strawberry sherbet-balls," Lucilla smiled, and she was asleep before Draco had even lit the nightlights.

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**A.N.:** Thanks for the reviews, and please keep them coming!


	3. Wonderland

**A.N.**: Hiya! Thanks for the reviews and story alerts! To _LunaBella 006_, this chapter and Chapter 2 are both set about six years previous to the first. It's sort of a flashback, so Chapters 2, 3, and 4 will all be flashbacks, and then it will go back to the present. Sorry for the confusion! And thank you to _Dracoginnylover24 _for another kind review. There is SMUT in this chapter, you have all been warned!

* * *

He went back to the solar, and noticed instantly the loveseat was unoccupied, as was the rest of the room. Everyone was in the ballroom or the drawing-room. He frowned, wondering how he would find Ginny now, and luckily glanced out of the windows before he turned. He caught sight of luminescent skin and gleaming saffron hair, and smiled as he slipped out of the solar, onto the balcony. The trees all around had been decorated with fairies to glitter like Christmas trees. Snow had fallen and crunched softly underfoot and he was careful where he stepped. Ginny was standing on the lowest step looking out at the gardens, at the beautifully-lit fountain at the end of the gravel path lined with beautiful willows and silver oaks. Her hair and the folds of her fabric were caught in a gentle breeze and he noticed she had goosebumps. He was freezing even in his dress-robes. He crept up behind her and leaned against the balustrade and offered his cigarette-lighter as she fumbled with hers, a white cigarette perched precariously between her lips. She glanced up and took the cigarette away, smiling.

"I didn't take you for a smoker," Draco said thoughtfully, closing the lighter with a soft _snap_ and dropping it back into his pocket. He didn't smoke, but it was always good to keep a lighter around, especially at parties.

"These are strictly contraband," Ginny said softly, putting the cigarette back into the little silver filigree purse she carried around. "One of the girls on the team smokes. I don't, really."

"Nervous?" Draco said in a low voice. Ginny glanced at him and held his gaze. She was cold, he could tell; her nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric of her gown. He felt the sudden urge to warm her up.

"What if I was?" Ginny asked softly. "How would you make me relax?" She was flirting with him. Before, their conversations had been mainly poking fun at other guests and entertaining them, or saving the other from unwanted attention. He licked his lips nervously. When he didn't answer directly, she glanced away towards the fountain, where Cupid and Psyche were reaching to embrace each other, and she sighed softly.

"It's been there for weeks, hasn't it," she said wistfully, and Draco knew she wasn't talking about the statue. She laughed softly. "You knew before I did, didn't you." She caught his eye again and Draco straightened when he noticed her eyes were filled with unshed tears. One fell perfectly down her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" he asked softly, reaching a hand to gently caress her cheek and wipe the tear away with his thumb.

"You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Ginny whimpered softly, walking backwards, away from him, into the safety of the obstructive trees. Draco stalked her as she backed away, afraid, neither of them able to take their eyes off each other.

"Yes," Draco whispered, as if he was answering every unspoken question her eyes were begging to ask. "Yes, I know exactly." He took her waist and gently, precariously, pressed the smallest surface of his lips to hers. Their eyes still open, they shared many kisses like these before Draco took her face in his hand and captured her lips in a searing kiss that left him breathless, her tongue massaging his, her arms around his neck, her entire body pressed up against him as his hand pushed around to rest on her butt, the other reaching for the trunk of the tree as they backed up. They glanced at each other and Draco captured her again, going to her neck, gently sucking, nipping the delicate skin playfully, kissing his way down her collarbone and down to her breasts, the straps of her gown pulled off her shoulders to expose a little more skin. She craned her neck to allow him better access and gasped as he kissed her neck and cupped her bare breast with his hand, his arm around her neck. Her parted thighs gave way for him to stand closer to her, pushing his knee between hers and pushing himself up against her. She gasped breathlessly and panted softly as they kissed again. He panted for breath and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, kissing her lips gently.

"I know exactly," he whispered, his entire body, and one place in particular pulsing and throbbing for her. She knew exactly. She moaned softly, and he could feel how hot she was against him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and she clung to him.

Ginny had wrapped her arms around his neck and would not let him go while he was massaging her tongue, and he wouldn't have let her go for the world. He took two steps forward and Ginny was pressed against an enormous oak, and she gasped into his lips as he smoothed his hands under her thighs and lifted them around his waist, grinning as he kissed her softly and grasped her bare butt-cheeks playfully and teasingly ran his fingers over her as he brought his hand back. She gasped and he pressed her against the tree, as she fumbled with his belt buckle and the hook and zipper of his trousers. He took her face in his hands, which were trembling, and kissed her again.

"Nervous?" he gasped, glad the two syllables didn't betray the quaver he had feared would slip out. He had never done this. He hadn't seen the need or felt the desire. Ginny shook her head with a breathless gasp and she kissed him as she tugged the band of his boxer-briefs down. He smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her legs, baring her thighs, and kissed her again as he thrust himself inside her in one sharp push. Was it Ginny's lips trembling against his, or were his lips trembling? He gazed into her eyes and she gazed down at him.

"Draco," she gasped softly. She throbbed and pulsed around him, so hot and wet and slick it took all his effort not to move.

"Ginny," he breathed, his voice oddly constricted. She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed for a second, as he leaned closer to her.

"I love you," she whispered, staring right into his eyes.

"I love you," Draco answered, emotion dripping from every letter. She took his face in her hand and plastered another kiss on his lips, and Draco groaned as he unsheathed himself and shoved back into her. The resistance of her contracting muscles made him throb like mad and he buried his head in her shoulder as he pulsed within her, and hearing her gasps and the soft tug of his hair at the back of his head as she threaded her fingers through it, her neck craned so he could kiss her throat, told her she was enjoying herself incredibly too. She moaned softly, privately, for his ears only and he built up his self-confidence and thrust into her over and over again, until his hands, grasping her hips, were trembling and he was afraid everyone in the house could hear their panting and moans. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her creamy skin glowing in the moonlight, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, her fingernails digging into the fabric over his shoulders. She clung to him as she gasped and let her head loll back, her expression so tranquil she was his fiery-haired angel. Draco didn't stop pumping into her, feeling his balls tighten and he smothered his yell with a searing kiss with Ginny, as he came inside her. He felt woozy, as if he might fall if he didn't hold Ginny, and so calm a group of Death Eaters could have appeared and he wouldn't have cared. Ginny turned her dully-glowing eyes onto him and pressed her palm to his cheek.

"You're trembling," she gasped for breath. Draco smiled and kissed her again, unsheathing himself. His body was on fire in the icy winter wonderland, and Ginny's body was flushed and glowing.

"I'll be alright," he promised, kissing her gently and wrapping his arms around her. She let her legs slide down his and settled on the ground, her arms wrapped gently around his shoulders. He fumbled between them with his zipper and belt and felt oddly ashamed, like she would feel something different towards him now because of what they had done. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and sighed softly into it, and Draco pressed his hands with gentle force into her back and waist.

"Where do we go from here?" Ginny whispered, and Draco hooked his finger under her chin and kissed her again. He could do that all day…or all night. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as they kissed and Disapparated to his house. She laughed breathlessly into his mouth as he pushed her back gently and she buckled onto his king-sized engraved stone four-poster, mounded with Egyptian cotton and expensive fur throws and huge feather pillows, draped with the gauziest shimmering curtains embroidered with silver thread. The entire room, though they couldn't see it, glowed gold from the six-foot-tall engraved Renaissance fireplace, the golden light dancing off the silver and gold lettering of his books in their shelves, the photograph and portrait frames on the walls and easels, the doorknobs to his dressing room and the other 'Hers' boudoir.

He licked his lips slowly, thoughtfully, and watched Ginny. She had squirmed into a comfortable position, her body extended the length of the bed, her head resting with the mane of red hair loose from its delicate up-do, a hand curled by her face as she grasped a pillowcase, smiling gently at him with a beckoning glitter in her eyes. He smiled and slipped her heels off, and smoothed his hands up her legs until he got to her hips, and pushed the silk up and off her frame, over her head, and into a puddle on the duvet where it fell to the floor unnoticed. Her body was still pink and burning and relaxed, and she sat up languidly to help him off with his jacket and shirt, his trousers.

Afterward, her limbs wrapped around him and he fell asleep in her arms, surrounded by a mound of warming duvets and furs. She was still there the next morning, still in his arms, and he smiled softly as he stretched his body against her and gently kissed each closed eye and her lips. She moaned softly and stretched like him, curling into him. He smiled again and kissed her cheek and her jaw and that tender spot right below her ear and an arm crept around his neck, drawing him closer. He grinned and Ginny smiled up at him, spreading her knees and moving her hips tantalisingly up to his.

"Good morning," he smirked softly. Her eyes blazed lustfully. _Again_, he thought with a shaky breath. Her hands were all over his torso, gently taking in every inch of warm skin as he gently pushed inside her, their legs entwining together, appreciating every gentle kiss and every soft push that made her sigh softly and kiss him as her burning fingertips gently scraped up and down his back and over his sides.

"How many did you love before me?" Ginny whispered, gazing up at him as her fingertips traced his jaw.

"None," he swore, gazing down at her while he pulsed softly within her, her breasts pushed up against his bare torso. She closed her eyes and licked her lips subtly.

"And after me?"

"None," Draco promised, trembling again.

They sat curled up on the bed, the duvets and furs wrapped around them in a cocoon, their own body heat serving them much better, and picked at the full English breakfast that had been left on the large round table he used for meals in his bedroom. He had one leg clasped between hers and an arm wrapped around her waist, propped up on all the pillows, gently nuzzling her neck and hair. He loved the small roll of what she called 'flub' at the base of her stomach as she sat and how she complained that her boobs were too heavy and had to draw her shoulders back. She was voluptuous; she wasn't a stick, and he loved the grabbable curves, as he had proved last night.

"Where are we, exactly?" Ginny asked, as if it was an afterthought and their whereabouts didn't actually concern her as she fed him eggy soldiers.

"My house," Draco sighed softly, snuggling into her neck.

"And where is that?"

"Well, if I told you that, I'd have to kill you…or chain you up," he replied thoughtfully, and Ginny giggled as he pushed a hand between their legs and made her writhe. "Wonderland," he said softly, gazing out of the window. He loved the snow.

"Come on, tell me," she smiled. Outside the Moorish arched windows snow was billowing around, coating the meticulously manicured garden. He was very proud of his home.

"Derbyshire," he said, smiling. "The Peak District." He kissed between her breasts fondly. "And you? Where do you live?"

"Diagon Alley," Ginny sighed almost imperceptibly. "I've lived there since I left home, with my brother George."

"I heard about his twin," Draco said softly, lowering his eyelashes respectfully. It was difficult not to have noticed the entire Weasley clan gathered, sobbing, around the fallen brother in the Great Hall that May when the sun had risen brighter and hotter than Draco could ever remember.

"You don't want to live there forever, do you?" Draco asked, taking Ginny's hand tenderly, propped up on his elbow to watch her. She blushed prettily at his insinuation and hid her face in the pillow coquettishly.


	4. Another

**Disclaimer**: Oh yeah, I don't own any of this if you recognise it!

**A.N.**: To avoid confusion, I thought I'd write in that this chapter is set a year after Chapter 3.

* * *

**_One Year Later_**

Ginny had been living with Draco for near enough eight months, and they had been dating for over a year, since last November, and neither of them had ever been happier. It wasn't just that they had each other. With Ginny she brought the wholesomeness of a spiritually pure soul and the golden laughter that accompanied it. She brought her friends; Granger was always diving in and out of his panelled library. Actually, he and Ginny had to be very careful where they made love and when, in case she was in the Queen Anne leather armchair reading. His garden was so large and so magically protected that many a Weasley came over with their brooms while Mrs Weasley, an amazingly powerful matriarch in a family full of men, talked and laughed with her daughter in the pretty little boudoir downstairs which opened onto a balcony where he and Ginny would drink tea on the clear winter days. Even Ron Weasley had visited once, with Hermione, keen to see his sister was properly set up and wasn't in any way being taken advantage of. Harry Potter became a frequent house-guest with his wife, Ginny's elder sister, Ron's twin. He, like Draco, was doing his Auror training, though they rarely spoke to each other before now, and Draco realised they had a lot in common and they would have spent hours in his study debating hotly about this subject or that did they not have better things to do, like train and put in for jobs at the Ministry, and keep their girlfriends sated.

Draco was helping Ginny too, with her work. Living with him meant she could practice flying techniques outside of team practices and he, having been a Seeker once himself, though a lazy one, helped her refine her technique and create new moves. When they were exhausted in bed, they would lie and talk for hours on end. Draco wanted to go abroad and work as an international Auror for a few years. In time he would have to return to England anyway, when he became executor of the Malfoy estate. Until then, he wanted to travel all the romantic places in the world with his girl. Ginny decided she wanted to go into quidditch journalism when she retired from playing, and Draco helped her build up her portfolio. Draco grew more and more in love with Ginny and he was certain she felt the same way about him. It was a matter of weeks before he proposed to her, if everything went this smoothly.

"Ginny, you've been in there for an hour!" Gwenog called through the bathroom door. Ginny convulsed again and the silencing charm on the bathroom door prevented Gwenog from hearing the splash of vomit hitting the toilet-bowl as Ginny threw up her breakfast. She gasped and wiped her mouth with a square of toilet-roll and sat back on her haunches, gripping the sides of the porcelain seat.

"What are you trying to do in there, look like me?" Gwenog asked laughingly from the locker-room. Ginny had been feeling ill for two weeks already, and had she not skipped three periods in a row she would have thought she had the flu. Her entire body trembled and flushed and she could barely see straight. She stood up and flushed the toilet, and went to the sink to wash off her hands, splash water on her pale face and brush her teeth hastily. It was the scented shampoo that had set her off this morning. Yesterday it had been the bacon at breakfast. Draco thought she was ill. He had been saying for days she looked pale and kept gently nudging her mentally to go to the Healers, or her mother.

Ginny couldn't tell her mother. She hadn't told anyone yet. She was four months pregnant and felt like shit. They had thrown themselves together and she never wanted to be wrenched from his side. But what would a baby thrown into the mix mean? Certainly it meant no more quidditch. No World Tour for Draco. That was if they stayed together. When she had taken a deep breath and smoothed her hair and top she exited the bathroom, a hand pressed to her lips, fearing one fell sniff would send her running back.

"Are you coming to the pub with us?" Carys asked, shoving a hat on over her golden-blonde cascade of curls. It was March and still chilly, as Ginny was well aware. Her body seemed to pick up everything acutely.

"No, thanks," Ginny said numbly, realising she was being spoken to and what they were asking. She couldn't drink. Not that she did normally.

"Alright, well, have a good night Ginny," Carys said breezily, shooting her a grin over her shoulder as she pranced out of the locker-room. Gwenog and the other girls followed her but Ginny stayed by her locker, her face hidden in her hands. She had to tell someone. She needed to know how she could gauge Draco's reaction. The only person who came to mind was Narcissa Malfoy. Over the last few months she had proven herself to be the sort of dedicated, loyal and warm-hearted woman any girl in her position would want to go to. Ginny's mother was the same, but somehow Ginny didn't feel easy about going to her. She might force the issue of marriage and all of that. Ginny wasn't ready for that. A few times, she and Draco had spoken about their future plans together. He was exceptionally sweet, but she didn't want to force him into anything. She had learned from the Muggle-born girls in her class whose parents would occasionally succumb to divorce. Ginny didn't want to be that woman.

* * *

She Apparated to Malfoy Manor, wondering worriedly whether she should in her condition, and walked up to the front doors. She still didn't feel quite comfortable using the informal entrance around the side, the conservatory with the wicker furniture and orchids. She only went that way when she was with Draco. The house-elf showed her to a room she hadn't been in before, and felt her stomach clench unpleasantly again when she realised this was Mr Malfoy's working study. He sat behind a magnificent desk in a high-backed leather armchair, like the one Draco had in his little study, shuffling parchments and frowning at a scroll, tapping his quill against the blotting paper irritatedly.

"Miss Weasley, sir," the house-elf squeaked, and Ginny couldn't go back.

"Miss Weasley," Mr Malfoy smiled silkily. She still didn't trust him implicitly. From Harry's half-written series of auto-biographies, one book for each year of Hogwarts, she had read that it was he, Mr Malfoy, Draco's father, who had slipped her Riddle's diary that day in Flourish and Blotts. And it was Mrs Malfoy, sweet Narcissa, who had lied to Voldemort during the lull in the Battle of Hogwarts, letting Harry live, which had ultimately led to Voldemort's demise.

"I…I was hoping to speak to Mrs Malfoy," Ginny confessed nervously.

"Cissa's taken the girls out for a picnic," Mr Malfoy smiled again, gesturing her to a seat.

"Didn't you want to go?" Ginny asked curiously. Those girls, Lucilla and Luciana, were the sweetest creatures she had ever met. And she'd had her fair share of horrors. Victoire and Dominique were already showing excesses of phlegm.

"I'm afraid I had some work to do at my offices," Mr Malfoy said heavily. "I've only been home a few minutes."

"Oh. I'll go—"

"Ginny," Mr Malfoy cut her off as she started to rise from the chair. _Thank god I'm not showing_, she thought. He fixed her with a look. "Draco has told me everything." She sat back down again. How could he _know_? She hadn't told him yet. She hadn't told _anyone_. Unless he had noticed their sexual activities rarely had a once-monthly lull, or he had heard her throwing up every morning, or that she was prone to an emotional overload when she thought about Fred or even Tonks and Remus, or when she saw a photograph of Teddy, or little Dominique, who already had her father's good looks, not her mother's.

"Draco knows," Lucius said solemnly. _So what? I'm not dying_, she thought. Was it so terrible she was with child? She hadn't seen Draco since early yesterday evening. He had to go to Paris for a business venture for his father. It was his day off Auror training. Ginny had been hoping to talk to him, but it looked like she didn't need to worry about springing the good news on him… _It _is _good news, isn't it_, she thought sceptically. Mr Malfoy sighed heavily and looked almost despondent.

"Ginny," he rarely called her that. Narcissa was the affectionate one. He still maintained Miss Weasley. "I thought Draco would have spoken to you already… He isn't returning from France." Ginny stared at him, the words taking a sluggishly long time to get to her brain, as if they were swimming through golden syrup. _No_, she gasped. Her baby wasn't coming home? How could he do this to her? What if she hadn't come here today? She would have waited and waited for him to come home in a house that would not serve her, until the truth finally dawned on her and she sobbed for days and days at his rakishness and her own stupidity. How could she have thought she was anything but a phase? He had played the schoolboy, the Death Eater, the good Auror boy, and had wanted a taste of playing the sweet boyfriend. She gasped hollowly and brushed a tear from her cheek as her eyes clogged with them, unable to see anything but the glimmer of Mr Malfoy's hair in the weak sunlight shining through the single enormous brocade-draped window overlooking the gardens, the balcony to the solar.

Her heart broken, she did not see anything but her own feet carrying her out of the grand marble foyer, and barely managed to pinpoint her thoughts on an Apparition point as she turned lethargically on the spot.

* * *

Draco ran through the house, with each empty room his heart being ripped to shreds in worry and torment: _What does she think she's playing at, hiding_? he thought, a little annoyed Ginny hadn't been waiting for her when he got home. Paris had been a long broom-journey away and his arse was sore. Not nearly as much as his front, which had been going through withdrawal symptoms all day. He reached the bedroom and his heart Disapparated. Or maybe it died. The _pop_ would have been the same. Everything was meticulous, and Ginny wasn't famed for being self-contained with her possessions. He had enjoyed her clutter. It made the house feel more lived-in. The bed had been made. They never made the bed. The only time Draco ever had, Ginny had jumped him and they ended up screwing all the sheets around and soiling them many times over before Draco realised he was late for Stealth and Concealment.

"Mother! Father!" he shouted desperately, running full-pelt into the foyer and up the grand staircase of Malfoy Mansion, searching for his parents. They would know. She was over at their house at least once a week. "Lucilla! Where are Mummy and Daddy?"

"Daddy's in his office," Lucilla said dreamily, walking past with a light romance novel stolen from their mother's private boudoir. Draco ran to the working study and found his father hard at work, as was usual.

"Daddy!"

"Ah, Draco, you're back!" Lucius beamed, standing and receiving Draco with open arms.

"Where's Ginny?" Draco asked without hesitation. "I went home but she's not there." _All her things are gone_, he added silently. Perhaps if he interrogated everyone he would prolong the clenching in his heart that threatened to break him. His father's face fell.

"Draco, I… I thought you knew. I thought she made it perfectly clear to you…" His father frowned concernedly at Draco. Draco didn't know what the hell he was talking about. His father went to his desk and opened a drawer, taking out a small hot-pressed bleached envelope sealed with Ginny's blood-red wax and the dragon seal her brother Charlie had given her for Christmas. "She… She, uh, she left this for you," his father said solemnly, barely meeting his eye as he handed Draco the envelope. On the front was scribbled hastily his name. "It seems there…there was another." _Another what_? Draco whimpered. _No, this can't be_. When would she have had time to have another boyfriend? She kept him pinned down eighteen hours of the day. _Unless…quidditch practice_, he thought pessimistically. _Who knows when she actually finishes practice_? But it still didn't make any sense. His Ginny wasn't like that. She would never string two men along at the same time. He took the envelope and in the privacy of his mother's empty boudoir down the corridor he opened it.

His eyes burned and filled with tears that blurred his vision and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't even cry properly. He let out a dry sob and the tears fell onto the neat black script Ginny had written. His mind was numb, his heart had been Crucio'd several hundred times and he was going to be sick.

"Draco?" his mother's voice was soft and anxious. He heard the rustle of silk behind him but didn't move. His mother's concerned face swam in his view; she was shocked to see how upset he was and put her hands on his arms, guiding him to a loveseat—_their_ loveseat, he thought and choked a sob out and collapsed in his mother's arms. She stroked his hair and whispered comforting words to him, rubbed his back under his jacket, and sang softly as she had done so many times when he was younger. But nothing she did could stop Draco from sobbing. She had _left_ him. His Ginny…_gone_. For another man.

* * *

Lucius bit the inside of his cheek; standing outside the drawing-room, listening to his son's anguished sobs, he was filled with an emotion he could only recognise from when he had had a one-time affair with his first and only maid when Narcissa was heavily pregnant with Draco. He went back to his study and frowned at the Christmas card Draco and his girlfriend had sent them. He had never, not in his entire life, seen Draco looking as happy as he did in that photograph, his arms wrapped around Ginny in a flurry of snow in Hogsmeade.

* * *

**A.N.**: Do tell me how you like it!


	5. Truth

**Disclaimer**: You _know_ I don't own Draco.

**A.N.**: Drumroll please... The next instalment. Please review and tell me what you think. You've all been really good about it so far.

* * *

Draco had been agitated all day. He hadn't been able to go back to Derbyshire, had stormed up to his parents' house only to stalk back down the path, strode predatorily through the Auror Headquarters with a visitor's badge gleaming on his front, and still could not shirk the urge to go and find Claudia again. It was nearing sunset by the time he had made up his mind. He walked up Diagon Alley with the moonlight and the golden light from old-fashioned gas-lamps splashing against the cobbles, his black cloak billowing around him as he walked. And he knew where she was. For the first time in nearly six years, he knew where the girl he was trying to find was. Behind Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

He strode down the narrow alleyway between Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and the shop on its left, and came to the beginning of a white picket fence, behind which was a very lovely, beautifully tended and brilliantly-coloured garden, narrow but long, with a set of steps at the other end curving up to the front door of the cottage that ran alongside the garden, which was painted a bright, eye-catching red. The curtains of the front parlour window, which was on the second-floor of the three-storey building, small windows for the larder and pantry and kitchen on the first with a smaller door painted navy under the stairs, were open and he could see two people. One was tall and curvy with a tiny waist and a voluptuous chest, and deep saffron hair that fell over her shoulders to her waist. She lifted the other figure, small and chubby like a cherub, into her arms and kissed her cheeks indulgently, beaming up at Claudia as she sat in the crook of her mother's arm at her waist, expertly balancing a basket of unfolded laundry on the other hip.

Draco's eyes burned and filled with tears that blurred his vision and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't even cry properly. He let out a dry sob and the tears fell to the dusty path as he stood with the white gate wagging slightly as if inviting him in. His mind was numb, his heart had been Crucio'd several hundred times and he was going to be sick. He took a deep, horrified breath and fell against the brick wall behind him, a faint hand over his eyes as the other sought balance on the wall. He gulped and hastily wiped away the tears, tidied himself up and walked into the garden, down the path and up the steps. He grabbed the lion's head knocker and knocked softly. He was jittery. The door opened and it was Claudia who shouted a welcome and beamed as she ran into his arms. He hoisted her into the crook of his arm, holding onto her with tender care, and her face swam in front of his face as the burning tears blurred them again, smiling painfully at his daughter.

"Draco! I knew you'd come!" Claudia beamed. "Uncle Dean said you wouldn't, but I said you were my friend and you would come and see me again." Draco laughed tearfully and kissed Claudia's cheek impetuously. She was so lovely, and he didn't even deserve it.

"Claudie, what have I told you about answering the door—?" Ginny hopped down the stairs in her tight little denim shorts and the white low V-neck top that showed off her magnificent cleavage, and she gasped, stopping as if Stunned in front of them.

"It's alright, Mummy! Draco's come to see me," Claudia explained joyfully, beaming at Draco as she placed her hands on his cheeks affectionately and kissed him on the lips. _Sweet girl_, he moaned piteously.

"Claudia, go and wash your hands for dinner," Ginny murmured, and Claudia pouted, turning to Draco for alternative directions.

"Do as your mother says," Draco smiled, setting her on the floor. She clutched at his neck, pouting. "Otherwise I won't buy you another treat ever again." Claudia's eyes widened in horror at the threat, and ran down the small hallway to the downstairs cloakroom.

When she had disappeared, and the sound of water running filled the hallway, Ginny glanced warily at Draco, fiddling with the pretty rings on her delicate fingers.

"How could you not tell me I'm father to a child!" he whispered hoarsely his eyes wide with shock, his jaw slightly lax.

"Come in," Ginny said softly, and Draco walked into the hallway. She closed the door behind him and the hallway fell quite dark, but warm and cosy. She showed him into the parlour, which was warm and lit with a golden light from little golden balls suspended on the walls and the large bay-window on the right-hand wall as they entered in the lower-left-hand corner. The room was small, quaint and low-ceilinged, dominated by female tastes, and obviously decorated for comfort. Comfy armchairs cluttered the room, some thrown over with protective covers of pretty English rose fabric. Ginny's pretty little writing box was perched on a lovely chaise-lounge featuring a fur throw, a cashmere shawl and several pretty embroidered cushions. A large round table gleamed under the window overlooking the front-garden, with a sewing box and several pieces of clothing to be darned—Claudia's little bloomers, the knees worn bare. She sat him down on the comfortably-sunken sofa and sat beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. He waited on tenterhooks for her to speak; he couldn't if he had wanted to.

"When I was four months pregnant, I went to see your father," Ginny began, and Draco clenched his jaw and glared at the lovely watercolour painting above the large fireplace. "I wanted to speak to your mother, but she wasn't home, and then your father told me you knew everything and had told him. He said you weren't returning from France." He didn't understand how his father—his _father_—could manipulate him, of all people, and jumped to his feet, intent on pulverising his father. Ginny grabbed his hand and bodily flung him back onto the sofa. "A few weeks later, he found me in George's old apartment above the shop, and he told me what he had done." Draco frowned. Even more startling, it was difficult to believe his father could ever have felt guilty enough to apologise or admit fault. He waited for Ginny to continue. She stared at him intently, no doubt gauging his emotions as she used to, through his eyes.

"I asked your father not to correct himself," Ginny said, and Draco gasped hollowly, tears startling him as they sprang from his eyes. Ginny tenderly cupped his cheek with her palm and fixed him with one of those searing, calming gazes he had loved. Still did love. He felt like he was melting in the warmth spreading from the sunlight spilling in through the window and relaxed into the sofa.

"Why?" he asked, his voice strangled. Ginny bit her lip subtly.

"I didn't want to be the girl who got the guy because she needed him," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I knew, if you found out, you would want to get married right away, and we would officially move in together and be a family. But it would have been because of the baby. Not because you wanted to spend the rest of your life with _me_. So, Lucius came to see me, and I asked him not to say anything to you, and to please keep his distance."

"I'll bet he loved that," Draco sniffed miserably.

"Actually, he was surprised. I don't know, maybe he thought I would have wanted money or something," Ginny sighed softly. "But he kept his word, and he stayed away and let me raise Claudia on my own. And I was okay. I realised I wanted you to be with me because you _wanted_ me, not because _I_ needed you."

"Didn't you?" Draco asked hollowly. Ginny smiled softly.

"There were times when it would have made everything easier," she admitted softly. "But not having you around made me realise that I could do anything I set my mind to."

"So, you never…you never asked for help," he said quietly.

"The only time I ever did, it was when I was in labour," Ginny smiled. "Your father was with me the whole time, holding my hand. I was in labour for twenty-two hours, and he never left my side. And when Claudia…_appeared_, the midwife cleaned her up, and let him hold her, and he gave her the name Malfoy."

"Didn't you want Claudia to have the name?" Draco asked resentfully. Ginny shrugged unconcernedly.

"I was debating about it. But you thought I had been unfaithful, and I didn't want to insult anybody by making assumptions," Ginny said. "So I left it up to him. The midwife asked for Claudia's name, so I said Claudia Jenifer, and he added Malfoy."

"Does he visit?" Draco asked interestedly. His father had never been really paternal. It was the fault of _his_ parents, who had been extremely frigid and had scorned displays of affection.

"Well, I said he was welcome to," Ginny shrugged, "but he doesn't. Probably he was afraid he might say something and let slip to you, and I would… I don't know. But I send photographs of her every month, and write long letters to him so he knows everything about her… I asked him to keep onto them, in case…well, for when you found out about her." Draco's hand was trembling, he knew he was crying silently, and he licked his lips nervously as he clenched her hand in his trembling fingers. She gripped his hand with equal force and cupped his cheek again.

"Draco Malfoy, I have always been in love with you," Ginny whispered, "all of this time. I have always wanted you." Draco grabbed her face and plastered a searing kiss on her lips.

"Ginny Weasley, I have missed you so much," he whimpered softly, stroking her long deep auburn hair. They spent five minutes kissing on the sofa, before Claudia bounced into the room with her doll clutched to her chest, and Ginny invited Draco to stay for dinner. He ate the simple meal of sausages and mashed potatoes and onion gravy with his girls. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed Ginny's cooking. Ginny put Claudia to bed and the two adults sat in the parlour talking for hours.

* * *

"_Mummy_," the tiny voice upstairs called from the hallway, sounding wracked with emotion and constricted with sobs, and they stilled, Draco craned his neck to look at the door.

"Oh, that's Claudie. She probably wants a story to help her back to sleep," Ginny said, making to sit up.

"Hey, let me go," Draco smiled, kissing the tip of Ginny's nose affectionately.

"Are you going to tell her?" Ginny asked, her face glowing.

"Do you want me to?" Ginny nodded without hesitation. Ginny smiled and kissed his lips tenderly. The tiny sweet image of a young child in a pretty, little white nightdress with golden curls spilling over her shoulders, clutching a simple doll appeared before him as he neared the top of the stairs. Draco started, alarmed, when he saw that her entire face, her dress, her hands, were covered in blood.

"Sweetheart!" Draco gasped, horrified, jumping over the stair-gate. He had seen these kinds of nosebleeds before; Lucilla had gotten them when she was about Claudia's age, and the best thing to do was keep her calm and help the bleeding stop. "_Ginny_!" Ginny came tearing upstairs at his shout and she clutched the banister, the colour falling from her face like the measure of a thermostat. Claudia whimpered and clutched her doll, which would need cleaning several times before Draco would let her have it back. Ginny pointed out the door to the bathroom and Draco set Claudia into the tongue-and-groove-panelled bathtub and took the doll and lifted the little nightdress over her head.

"I have to lie down," Ginny said weakly, and Draco saw she looked distinctly green. He wondered how she handled these kinds of things alone before now, which filled him with shame. Ginny staggered out of the bathroom and he saw her lie down on the hallway floor, pinching the bridge of her own nose. He felt physically sick, nausea curling in his stomach threatening to spew, and he had to take a deep calming breath before he took out his wand and pointed it at Claudia's nose so her huge eyes crossed, and he knew the freezing sensation made her want to sneeze but she didn't, and started feeling the temperature of the water from the shower-head. He put his hand to her hairline and guarded her eyes as he doused her hair, rinsing the blood off her little body with warm water, and rubbed baby-shampoo into her golden locks before rinsing it out, wrapping her in a huge, soft warm towel from the small airing cupboard beside the bathtub and carried her over Ginny to the beginning of the blood-trail in Claudia's bedroom. He flicked his wand and the blood vanished with a well-practiced '_Scourgify_' and he sat her on his knee in the large white wicker armchair and meticulously combed out the long golden hair.

"Are you my daddy?" Claudia asked innocently, as she raised her arms and allowed him to drop a sweet little pink nightie with tiny roses printed on it over her head. Draco smiled softly and lifted the handmade pink patchwork duvet so Claudia crawled onto the 'big girl' bed and squirmed down to rest her golden head on the pillow, hugging her doll. Draco tucked her in and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently stroking her cheek.

"Yes, I am," he said softly.

"Will you read a story to me?" she asked, gazing up at him. A little white-painted bookcase held a variety of children's books. Claudia told him her favourite and he took _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ from the top shelf. He rolled his eyes as he saw the complete series of auto-biographies from his least-favourite person and curled up on the bed beside Claudia, wrapping one arm around her so she snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his chest, her thumb in her mouth, watching the pages. When she had fallen asleep, a small warm ball against his side, he carefully extricated himself from her clutches, tucked her in again and lit the soft golden orbs for a nightlight in case she woke, and closed the door quietly behind him.

"Well done," Ginny whispered softly in the hallway. She was sitting on the carved rocking chair tucked into the corner between the bathroom and another bedroom and was knitting something pale-gold.

"I'm not a complete novice," Draco said softly, glancing back sadly at the bedroom door. Ginny folded her knitting—a little autumn cardigan for Claudia—and stood up, going to him.

"Ginny, what does…what does everyone else think? About me, I mean," Draco said softly, not meeting her eyes out of shame. She sighed heavily, her hands on his stomach.

"They think what _I _thought," she said carefully. "But that will change, I promise. They won't hold this over you when we explain what happened."

"I'm surprised your brothers didn't come and hunt me down," Draco said glumly.

"Well, I did have to stop them sending a few Howlers," Ginny admitted. "But their respect for my feelings outweighed their hatred of you. It always has."

"Will they still hate me?" Draco asked anxiously. He hated being hated. Life was so lonely when everyone despised him. He had made a vow five years ago that he would never be emotionally lonely again.

"Give them time," Ginny advised softly. "They loved you once, after all. Even Ron and Harry." It was more of a marvel that Hermione Granger had grown to like him, in light of what he had put her through. A small carriage-clock chimed prettily downstairs in the parlour and Draco glanced at the stairs and at Ginny.

"I should…I should probably get going. You probably have work tomorrow," he said abashedly, blushing softly.

"I do…but, maybe you'd like to spend the day with Claudie," Ginny said hopefully. "She wouldn't stop nattering about you this afternoon. She'd love to spend some time with you. And I'd love you to spend some time with her." Draco smiled bashfully.

"Really?" he said softly, as if he was thirteen and she had told him she thought he was cute.

"Hey, she's half yours, too," Ginny smiled. Draco smiled bashfully again.

"Yeah, she is, isn't she," he said softly. That little girl in there was _his_ little girl. "Okay…I'll come by in the morning."

"I have to be at the office at one," Ginny said. "So come by at half-eleven and we can talk." Draco grinned, stole a kiss, hands on her waist and tongue pressing tauntingly against her lips, and Ginny laughed breathlessly as they broke apart. She guided him downstairs, did the clasp of his cloak, straightened the folds and dusted the shoulders and kissed him goodbye.

* * *

Draco walked into the house, closing the front door behind him, completely ignoring the new house-elf's bluster, and found his father reclining in his mother's favourite drawing-room.

"Draco!" he beamed, folding his newspaper and standing up. Draco walked over to him as if in a dream, or a dream of a dream, barely conscious he was actually in control of his limbs as he embraced his father and stood before him as his father sat back down.

"I…I met Claudia," he said numbly, watching his father for his reaction. His father put the newspaper back down and his eyebrows rose slightly.

"I see," he said lightly.

"And Ginny told me what happened," Draco said quietly, receding from that dreamlike state. His father glanced up at him warily; probably unsure of what Ginny might have said and what version of it she had told him.

"I've never known you to be remorseful about anything," Draco said softly. "But you went back to her. You found her for me." His father took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his forehead knotted thoughtfully, his fingertips pressed together.

"I see Miss Weasley is the same honest young-woman she was all those years ago," Lucius smiled affectionately at the rose-embroidered cushion on Mother's chaise. His pale grey eyes fixed on Draco's and he smiled softly. "How did you like your daughter?" Draco flung himself onto the sofa with a wail and started bawling about how _lovely_ she was and how _sweet _and _angelic_, and his father laughed all the while. Ginny had made him promise not to hate his father for his interference, which he had spent almost five years repenting for in silence as he read Ginny's letters.

Lucius showed Draco into his working study, to the safe built into the wall behind a Queen Anne armchair, and produced a lockbox stuffed with letters upon letters, birthday invitations, a thousand photographs, pictures drawn by Claudia, her first writing, a hand-print. Draco devoured them in his old bedroom and took his favourite photographs to make copies. He didn't resent his father for what he had done, or tried to do. He knew without that interference he would never have seen the world. He would never have gained an understanding of all the other cultures in the world and wouldn't appreciate his life, and the life Ginny was offering him, if he hadn't. He might have grown to resent Ginny for snaring him in the net of marriage so early in his life. He had missed Ginny every single day, and every single day he fought with himself whether to write to her and ask about her, or not.

* * *

**A.N.**: Please review!


	6. Bonding

**Disclaimer:** Okay, I don't own HP. That should cover it.

**A.N.:** Another chapter for all you faithfuls! Thank you so much for the reviews, and please keep them coming. I would still love to hear your feedback, critical or not!

* * *

"Well, well," Lucilla said softly, her sensual voice bordering on a predatory growl. Draco groaned and let his head hang as he buttoned his shirt. Lucilla glided into his bedroom in a beautiful ultra-feminine outfit of a lacy blouse with a high-neckline and guimpe, a rusty-pink sash around the waist and a very pretty pink skirt patterned with delicate vertical garlands of tiny flowers. "Are there any side-effects?"

"Any side-effects from what?"

"Your amnesia," Lucilla said, settling gracefully in the chaise-lounge by the renaissance fireplace. Draco gave her a bemused look in the mirror. "I know you must have amnesia, because there is no other logical explanation for you having not told me about your little girl." Draco looked down at his dresser and put the comb back in its place. Lucilla unfolded from the chaise and rested her bejewelled fingers gently on his shoulders. "Are you alright, Draco?" He grunted softly and ran his hands through his hair distractedly.

"Did Father tell you everything?" he asked.

"Daddy mentioned your old lover, Ginny Weasley," Lucilla said carefully. "And Mummy didn't rest until she had uncovered everything he had to say about her." Lucilla rested her chin on his shoulder and her eyebrows drew together in a frown as she stared at the foot of the tall carved bookcase beside the dresser.

"I am an aunt," she mused quietly, and Draco nodded.

"You have been since you were fourteen years old," Draco said quietly.

"What's her name?" Lucilla asked interestedly.

"Poppet," Draco smirked over his shoulder as he retrieved a casual jacket from his wardrobe, and Lucilla laughed softly. "Her name is Claudia Jenifer Malfoy."

"And where are you off to?" Lucilla inquired, smirking.

"I am going to see Ginny," Draco beamed, and Lucilla's eyes widened with jubilation.

"Oh _good_! You've been moping around for years over her," she said, and Draco was thrown back to the days when Lucilla had been young and sweet and innocent and so frankly honest he used to squirm under her scrutiny. Actually, she still was and he still did.

"I have not been moping around for her," he said, frowning as he tied the laces of his black Converses.

"How long has it been since you've had sex?" Lucilla asked, and Draco stopped, craning his neck to stare at his baby-sister. She squirmed.

"Are you angry I asked you that?" she asked nervously.

"No. I'm just trying to remember," Draco admitted softly. "Anyway, I would love to stay and chat with you about my love-life, but it creeps me out, and I have a few things that I need to do, so… Do you have plans today?"

"Yes. Svetlana Nott and Phoebe Greengrass invited me for afternoon-tea at Peony Crescent," Lucilla beamed. "And then we have the entire Crescent closed off for private shopping." Draco smirked and Lucilla flushed at his haughty tone of mockery and he left the house. Since she was sixteen, Lucilla had lived with Draco. He had taken her travelling all over Europe with him, where she had made many friends and had many pen-pals. She was hopelessly devoted to each and every boy she had ever met on her holidays and her friends would not stop teasing her about them.

* * *

Draco crept through the garden and into the house to the scullery-kitchen downstairs, where he had seen Ginny doing some ironing. He snuck up on her and displayed a posy of exquisite Sarah Bernhardt peonies, lovely pale-pink roses, sweet pink lilies and small-leaved eucalyptus before kissing her cheek impetuously and laughing softly at her start and exclamation of surprise.

"Good morning poppet," he whispered, kissing her softly on the lips.

"Draco," she smiled, kissing him back. She took the flowers and gazed at them, appreciating their beauty. "They're lovely, thank you."

"I know they're your favourites," Draco smiled. She laid the bouquet on the scrubbed kitchen table and undid the cellotape binding the brown tissue-paper inside clear cellophane surrounding the posy, and undid the twine so she could trim the ends and display the posy in a cream enamel jug on the windowsill above the sink, looking out onto the back-garden.

"Where's Claudia?" Draco asked, producing a tiny little posy; a peony, a rose, a single lily (with the pollen removed) and a sprig of eucalyptus bound in a bit of tissue-paper. He thought Ginny might melt as she sighed at it.

"Draco, you're so _cute_," she gushed, and he had to hold tight to Claudia's posy so he didn't drop it as Ginny launched herself on him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and her lips plastered to his. He moaned softly and held her close. The kiss deepened and he rested her against the edge of the kitchen table as he put down the posy and gripped her waist, massaging his tongue against hers and trailing hot kisses down her neck.

"Mornings used to be our time," Ginny gasped lustily, her hands cupping his face as he kissed her décolleté, his crotch pressed against her heat.

"Jesus I remember them well!" Draco murmured from her cleavage. Ginny laughed softly and they caught themselves, breathless and grinning, gazing into each other's eyes. "So… Where is Claudia?"

"She's at playgroup," Ginny smiled, adjusting her bra-strap from where it had slipped down her shoulder. She gestured to a seat and Draco sat down while she busied herself making tea, kicking the basket of ironing out of the way. Draco _loved_ ironing, it was always so therapeutic. Plus, the house-elves always made his collars extra starchy if he let _them_ do his laundry, which he was now entitled to do since he paid them a ten sickles a week for their services. "And one of the other mums takes her to ballet."

"Lucilla used to take ballet," Draco mused.

"I know," Ginny smiled, and Draco beamed at her.

"She teaches it, now," Draco said softly.

"Oh, well, Miss Perfect Work-Ethic prances about the parlour for _all hours_ practicing her pirouettes," Ginny laughed softly. "And she's taking gymnastics, piano lessons and she _loves_ swimming." Draco smiled. He was hanging onto Ginny's every word, drinking in anything she had to say about their daughter.

"You don't have a piano," Draco said softly. "Where does she practice?"

"Oh, Isolde teaches her," Ginny smiled. "She takes Claudia every Thursday."

"How did you do it?" Draco asked curiously, cocking his head to one side. "I mean—how did you raise Claudie on your own and have a career at the same time." He knew she was the quidditch correspondent for the _Daily Prophet_.

"Well, I wasn't really on my own," Ginny shrugged, sipping her tea and offering him a home-made shortbread. "Mum took Claudia whenever I had to travel, and George has been really good to us about letting us buy this place off him, and my brothers' wives _love_ Claudia, so she's always being invited around to have tea with her cousins."

"How many does she have?" Draco asked interestedly. He knew Bill and Fleur had had a little girl after the Battle, and Ron and Hermione were engaged, but other than that no other romantic developments had manifested during his brief time with Ginny.

"Bill and Fleur have two girls and a little boy," Ginny said, ticking off her fingers. "Victoire, Dominique and Louis, and Charlie still prefers dragons, Percy has Molly and his wife is pregnant again. George has Fred and Roxanne, Ron has Rose and baby Hugo, and Isolde has James, Albus, and Lily is only five months old." Draco shook his head in wonderment. He rested his chin on his hands as he laid them on the table and stared glumly at a knot in the woodwork.

"I've missed so much," he said resentfully. Ginny gripped his shoulder and gave him a look, as if to say '_It's not your fault_'. It sort of _was_ his fault though.

"Hey, you're here now," she said softly, her intense blue eyes, so like Claudia's, blazing. "And if you want to know things, I can tell you _everything_ you want to know. And…and you will know things, because I want you to know them. I want you to be a part of Claudia's life." She looked bashfully at her hands and licked her lips nervously. "But mostly I want you to be a part of mine." Draco was ready to romp her silly just like he used to, but his own better judgement kept him holding back, in case she took offence or decided she really didn't want him anymore. He did lean forward and kiss her softly, gently tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, taking her waist as she cupped his face, his hand smoothing the skin under the shoulder of her top and under her bra-strap, baring the soft, warm skin. This, _this_ was how it had been. All over each other with no thought for anything else. He gently kissed the exposed skin above her very pretty cream cotton bra printed with delicate little pink flowers and trimmed with pink ribbon and moaned softly as she kissed his neck and sucked on the tender skin.

"Oh…oh, Draco, we're…we're late for Claudie," Ginny moaned, gasping softly as he sucked on the warm skin just above the pink ribbon, and they broke apart, holding each other's gaze, Draco still holding her waist. "We need to go over some things. Just—just _stay there_," Ginny gasped, stepping away from him. He grinned rakishly.

"Why? Do I make you nervous?" he asked softly, and Ginny's chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to take a steady breath. She fumbled for a small organiser and sat down in the chair beside him. He placed a hand on her inner-thigh and propped his head on his hand as he looked at the planner, completely innocent.

"Um…" Ginny jigged her leg nervously and he slipped her a delicious smirk. She cleared her throat as he stroked his thumb against her thigh and licked her lips. "Claudia's ballet finishes at noon, and I normally pick her up and drop her off at Mum's, but I told her what's happened, so you can bring Claudie back here. We usually go for a walk down Diagon Alley and if you want you can take her for lunch at Fleur's patisserie, and just keep her occupied in the afternoon. She has a nap around one and after that we do a myriad of things. Sometimes she likes to go swimming or go bowling with her cousins, or she'll play house in her room or go in the garden and pick flowers." _Easily amused_, Draco smiled. He liked the sound of that.

* * *

They walked to Claudia's ballet studio and stood outside the little thatched Tudor village hall at the end of Wisteria Walk amongst chic white-marble Georgian palatial houses and shop-fronts, where little girls in pale pink leotards and flimsy little skirts, little slippers, white tights and their hair in tight buns were running to their mothers (and only one father besides Draco) across the emerald-green lawn littered with pretty flowerbeds. Claudia beamed and skipped out of the building hand in hand with another little girl with two dark coils tied with pink ribbons, and when she saw him she ran, leaping into his arms, her little drawstring bag with her clothes in falling to the ground. Ginny bent and picked it up and Draco plastered a kiss on Claudia's cheek so she giggled.

"Did you have fun dancing?" Draco asked, noting how her little tummy rose and fell quickly and her cheeks were flushed. Claudia nodded eagerly and Draco smiled.

"Mummy," Claudia sighed, reaching her arms to her mother. Ginny, dressed smartly with a white tailored jacket striped with purple pinstripes and lined with deep purple velvet, took Claudia to her waist and kissed her cheek.

"Claudia, instead of going to see Grandma today, Daddy's going to take care of you," Ginny smiled at Draco. "He's going to play with you while I'm at work. Is that okay?" Claudia nodded and beamed at Draco. "Good. Say goodbye to Bella."

"Bye Bella," Claudia warbled at the brunette little girl, and Bella and her mother both smiled and waved. Draco squatted down beside Claudia and helped her tug the elasticised little jeans up over her tights and pulled a t-shirt over her head, folding the little skirt into her bag as she traded the slippers for a pair of jelly sandals.

"Alright, I have to get to work," Ginny smiled, and tickled Claudia's side as Draco hoisted her into his arms by her request. "_You_ behave yourself, missy."

"Bye Mummy," Claudia called, and Ginny smiled as she walked away, catching Draco's eye briefly as she turned on the spot.

"So, Mummy says you go to school," Draco said interestedly. "What do you learn?"

"Today we did colouring, and I read my _Mrs Tiggy-Winkle_ book," Claudia said happily.

"Would you read it to me?" Draco asked, pouting adorably so she smiled and nodded.

Looking after Claudia was more fun than Draco had anticipated; she was easier to keep occupied than Lucilla ever had been and was prone to beaming the cheesiest grin whenever she did something right, and never pouted our shouted. She was the sweetest little girl he had ever known, and she quickly became attached to him. When they got home, Claudia changed into a pretty little dress and Draco undid the tight coil of her bun and she read _Mrs Tiggy-Winkle_ to him in her big white wicker armchair in his lap. She paused over some words, licked her lips, contracted her eyebrows, and read on diligently, resting against his chest as she held the tiny book preciously in her pudgy little fingers.

After _Mrs Tiggy-Winkle_ she went on to _Apply-Dapply's Nursery Rhymes _and then it was time for lunch. Draco took her to _Fleur's Patisserie_, where she had a grilled-cheese sandwich and a bowl of fruit, and when she dozed off on her bed, he tucked in the light blanket and went down to the scullery, turning the radio on softly, finishing the ironing Ginny had left. She hadn't asked him to, but by the time Claudia bumped down the stairs on her bottom, he had finished every single little dress, every pair of little bloomers, every tiny chemise, petticoat, and camisole, every little sock and apron, all of Ginny's smart trousers, blouses, tops, her summer dresses. Claudia smiled groggily at him and clambered into a chair at the table.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Draco asked, sitting opposite her and mimicking her pose, her head leaning on her little fist, clutching her doll. He got an idea when she requested a snack, and cleaned away all of the laundry into the upstairs airing-cupboard to warm for use, and put a fresh apron on over Claudia's dress, rolling up his sleeves and tying Claudia's hair. They started baking. Lucilla had loved when Draco got her to cook treats for him. Claudia had a wonderful time, though she barely did anything, and though she couldn't handle the big rolling-pin, she helped him knead the dough for rich scones with sultanas and dried cranberries, mixed the batter for a dozen little butterfly-cakes with sweet butter-icing and a Victoria sponge cake with raspberry jam and clotted-cream. There was flour dusting her right cheek, her fingers were sticky with dough and jam, and Draco kept laughing loudly with her giggles as they made a complete mess of the kitchen, capturing everything with his camera.

When they had exhausted the oven, and it got too hot to do much else, Claudia changed into her swimming-costume, which was red with white polka-dots and frills over the hips, and Draco filled the inflatable swimming-pool in the back-garden amongst the fragrant flowers, and after she had had enough of swimming and was in danger of burning, Draco tugged a dress over her and she went around the garden with the camera, pretending to take photographs of the flowers as he mended the clothes Ginny had yet to darn. They played 'It', running around the back-garden, and compelled by Draco's gift to her earlier in the afternoon, Claudia carefully picked a few flowers to put in a vase for Mummy. She showed him the colouring she had done at 'school' and how she had perfected her pirouette and the little dress Ginny was sewing for her favourite doll, and by the time five o'clock came around Claudia and Draco were both eating an early dinner in the garden on the set of white-painted iron garden-furniture under the small gazebo hung heavily with honeysuckle.

"We made cakes for you, Mummy," Claudia beamed, her mouth full of spaghetti-Bolognese Draco had cut up for her, her neck tied with a huge napkin. Draco unfolded languidly from his chair and greeted Ginny with a kiss on the lips, as she gazed at the small spread of the table bemusedly.

"How was your day, darling?" he asked softly, gently guiding her to the table.

"Not as good as yours, I'll bet, _dearest_," Ginny said softly, smiling as Draco doled spaghetti onto her waiting plate and handed her a knife and fork.

"We had a lot of fun, didn't we, Claudie," Draco smiled, and Claudia managed a nod as she spooned spaghetti into her mouth. "You read to me, didn't you, and then we made some cakes and did some swimming." Ginny's eyes gazed smoulderingly at him as she smiled and sighed softly as she ate the dinner he had prepared.

* * *

"You really did well with her today," Ginny smiled, as Draco washed up the plates and cutlery, nodding to Claudia as she sat colouring complacently at the kitchen-table.

"She makes it easy," Draco shrugged softly. "So…I should probably head out now."

"Or…or you could…you could stay the night," Ginny said bashfully, fiddling with her rings as she looked at him through her eyelashes. Draco's body instantly responded to her suggestion, and he moaned softly as he cupped her face in his hands. Other than kissing a little bit, they didn't do anything except sleep innocently, holding each other the way they used to.

* * *

Draco woke up feeling warm and comfortable, and more contented than he had in several months at least. He squirmed sleepily and nuzzled the soft, warm thing he was hugging. He opened his eyes a tiny crack and stilled, allowing a tiny smile to lift the corners of his mouth. Ginny was still sleeping, her fist curled by her cheek, her vibrant hair wild over the pillow, curled into his body like she used to lie.

Nothing had happened last night. He had suggested going home; she had suggested staying. He offered to sleep on the sofa in the parlour; she wanted him close. He had given her a goodnight kiss and they had snuggled down under the duvet. It felt so strange, and wonderful, to wake up with someone else in bed. To even hug someone was a marvel in itself. Ginny stirred gently and rolled into his arms. Her eyes opened and she blinked bemusedly at him.

"Morning," he whispered. Ginny smiled bashfully and trailed her finger down his cheekbone. They nudged noses and gently kissed, and Draco sighed softly as he crawled on top of her, gently kissing her and massaging her stomach and sides. Something squeaked quietly and Ginny stilled. Draco moaned softly as he rolled onto his back and cracked an eye at the door, which stood slightly ajar. Claudia stood in her little nightdress with her doll, her hand on the doorknob, gazing imploringly at him.

"Come on," he sighed happily, and Claudia beamed as she ran over to the carved four-poster bed. She scrabbled onto the high mattress and curled into a ball in between him and Ginny, resting her head on Ginny's chest.

"Good morning, sweetness," Ginny smiled, sitting up and propping herself up against the pillows, smoothing Claudia's beautiful curls. "Are you going to sing for me?" Nestling her head in Ginny's shoulder, staring coquettishly through her eyelashes at Draco, Claudia murmured a sweet little nursery rhyme, blushing furiously and giggling into Ginny's shoulder when Draco smiled and applauded gently.

* * *

**A.N.:** There you are, another chappie! Hope you enjoyed it!


	7. ADOPTION NOTIFICATION

**Adoption Notification**

Due to the sheer number of stories accumulating on my profile-page, and the lack of interest I have in continuing some of them, I am therefore sorting out my profile, and if not deleting my stories, putting them up for adoption; this story is one of them. If you'd like to take on this story to finish it, please let me know. My Private Messaging service is available on my profile.

Sorry for disappointing you if you particularly loved this story.

Sincerely,

mellowenglishgal

or, Hannah


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